Thorns of a Rose
by moondragonhonor247
Summary: I've always wanted to be normal. With a family, friends and even school. But normal has never been an option when you have no family (that you know of), you're constantly on the run and you suddenly stumble upon four of the strangest "people" ever. Then again, I never really expected to be normal. (Obviously I stink at summaries) Unknown OC pairing, Rated for language content.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hi world! Sorry if this little tidbit is too short. It's just that this is my first fanfiction... EVER. Please, please, PLEASE review so I can get an idea if anyone even likes this! Plus, constructive criticism and feedback is most definitely welcome! But please no absolute negativity or trashing. Thanks and I hope you enjoy! I do not own TMNT!**

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Why does my life have to be so goddamn hard?

I mean, would it kill someone to just let me off the hook from time to time? As if I don't already have enough crap to deal with being a teenage girl, I also have to dodge the Foot's attempts at killing me. But I guess I'm getting a bit ahead of myself aren't I?

I'm guessing you'd like to know my entire life story, why the Foot is after me, and why I just so happen to be running for my life. Sorry to disappoint you, but I don't have any free time for a back story. Like I said, being chased. Might tell you later.

But back to the running for my life part.

My arms pump at my sides, feet a blur on the pavement. A clap of thunder, loud enough to make windows rattle in their panes, rolls through the dark New York sky. I push harder as the first drops of rain hit my face, breath coming in short gasps. The sudden freezing May downpour sets to work, making everything slick. Rain soaks me through in a matter of seconds, and my short hair is pasted to my face. This was not my day. My toe catches on something as my other foot slips. I start to fall but catch myself, pushing off even harder. A cramp starts to work itself into my right leg and I have a stitch in my side.

_'Stupid, stupid, STUPID!' _that helpful little voice in my head screams, _'You just had to go out into the open so recklessly! You were supposed to be lying low dip shit! Or did you forget the last time the Foot caught up to you?'_

I hadn't forgotten the last time they caught up. I still had the scar to show for it. But I had to go out, and I got sloppy. Hopefully this wasn't going to be the last time.

A high pitched whistling noise closing in fast catches my attention. I duck just in time to miss a throwing star aimed at my head, and I suddenly hear a lot more of the little buggers coming at me from behind.

I aim myself towards the nearest alley, sprinting like hell. Red hot pain slices through my left shoulder and right thigh just as I dive down the side street. I come to a screeching halt and quickly conceal myself behind a dumpster. Staying invisible as Foot soldiers race past, I tenderly touch my thigh. I hiss and pull back my hand, seeing the blood smeared on my fingers.

"Damn that smarts," I growl, wiping my hand off on my hoodie.

The peals of thunder and cracks of lightning continue as I quickly strip off my hoodie. I gently pull off my navy blue tee and set to work tearing it into strips. Shivering in my soaked, gray tank top, I dress my arm. And believe me, dressing a cut with one hand is very difficult. I manage the final knot and pull my hoodie back on. Standing up slowly, I peek over the dumpster. I can't dress my leg here. I mean, would you want to be in your undies in the rain? Not. Fun.

I take a cautious step out from my hiding place. It looks like all of the Foot have passed, but I can't be sure. Slowly creeping along the wall, I reach the opening of the side street. I look around the corner but don't see anyone out in the ongoing downpour.

"Okay, I just have to get back to the safe house and I'll be home free," I mutter, inching out of the alleyway.

_BANG!_

I jump at the sudden noise, my senses on full alert. Pulling back into the shadows, I look up. On the roof! There's someone there, and I'll give you one guess as to who it is.

"Dammit!" I squeak. Peeling out of the shadows, I run down the alley in a dead sprint. The Foot clan was on the flippin' rooftops!

I turn down another side street, and another, and another, but I can still see them in my peripheral vision. I dart to my right into another alley. But, unfortunately, this one is a dead end.

"Crap!" I yell, skidding to a stop. Whirling around, I run for the exit.

_Whoosh!_

Suddenly there's a wall of Foot ninja blocking my way. I make a u-turn, aiming to scale the wall. But low and behold, there's another line of black uniforms there too. I stop in my tracks, chest heaving. They stand there like silent statues as I fall into a fighting stance.

"Bring it on!" I shout at them, "I have a Two and a Half Men show recording that I want to get back to!"

I smirk, waiting for the first move.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks again for reading this! It's very much appreciated, but comments are even more appreciated! Enjoy! (Sorry if this one is short too, just trying to find decent intervals for chapters.)**

There's a shuffling, then a Foot jumps out wielding a bo staff. He looks like easy pickings, which is too bad. I was hoping for a challenge. But oh well, a punching bag is a punching bag.

"Here we go!" I smile, cracking my knuckles.

We circle each other, waiting for one of us to show an opening. There's a flash of lightning, and in that instant, he makes his move.

The Foot soldier comes running at me full tilt, preparing for his first attack. My smile widens.

"Stupid move dip shit," I murmur.

I stop moving and relax. My clenched fists loosen and my arms fall to my sides. The Foot ninja keeps coming, and once close enough, he makes a jab at my unprotected face. But the blow never lands.

I can practically see the bug-eyed expression on his ugly mask when he realizes I _stopped_ the staff only inches from my face. Cackling, I push the bo staff into his gut before ripping it out of his hands. I laugh even harder as his butt hits the pavement.

"Thanks for the weapon!" I whoop.

I hear a rustling sound behind me and I stop. Looking out of the corner of my eye, I see another Foot soldier emerge and come at me. He's light on his feet and I bet he probably thinks that I don't know he's coming. Which makes it all the sweeter for me. I grip my newly acquired staff, waiting for just the right moment.

When he's seconds away from throwing a punch, I whirl around, catching him with my staff right in his side. But I don't just stop there. I bring the guy all the way around, right into his buddy who had provided me with the weapon and was just about to tackle me, sending them flying. Both of them land right on top of a bunch of other Foot and they fall like dominoes.

"Home run!" I howl. This was just getting to be too much fun! Then a sharp pain in my leg reminds me I'm running a little low on time. I had to get out of there fast.

I wince, shifting my weight to one foot to take the pressure off my leg.

"I'd love to stay and play guys, but I don't really have time for it right now." I say nonchalantly, "Two and a Half Men is waiting!"

They all pause for a moment, like they're thinking. Then, slowly, they all draw out their weapons. It looks like the actual fight might start.

I roll my neck, releasing the tension from my body. Being fluid in battle is essential. As is knowing what your up against. There are only about twenty five of them, and it looks like only fifteen are actually armed.

I smirk and drop my weapon.

I didn't need it to take on these creeps. It would just give me an unfair advantage. Plus, I really really just wanted to punch something.

I take up my fighting stance again and ball my hands into fists, leveling them with my chest.

"Bring it," I growl, and I'm swallowed by the swarm of Foot soldiers.


	3. Chapter 3

Immediately, I drop to the ground, causing a bunch of the Foot to trip over my curled form and even more to run smack dab into each other. Then I roll back and pop up off of my hands, kicking a few ninjas in the process. As soon as I'm up, the attacks start flying.

Dodge a punch here, block a kick there, throw a guy over your shoulder. All you could hear were the grunts, gasps, thuds and clatters of battle overlaying the steady patter of rain. It was like being surrounded by an ocean of flesh and blood that wouldn't give up. No matter how much I kicked their asses. And believe me, I was really kicking their asses.

"God, your moves are sooo predictable!" I groan as I duck another round house and deliver a solid uppercut, "But points for persistence!"

I'm suddenly grabbed from behind by a guy I had thrown just seconds earlier. My guard drops and another guy darts in and slices his katana across my abdomen. The searing pain of biting metal activates my secret weapon.

_Oof! Thud!_

"There." I say smugly as I watch the two ninja struggle on the ground, holding their crotches, "Now we're even."

But, unfortunately, my guard still isn't up and I get nailed in the chest by someone's foot. Haha, get it? Foot? Yeah, terrible life-on-the-line pun, I know. But it honestly couldn't be helped. Anyway, I slam into someone from behind and we skid into a hard brick wall.

Just as I'm picking myself up, I get this weird pinch on my arm. Doing a double take, I quickly suck in air as I rip out a dart that's been stuck into my bicep.

"Really!" I shout in disgust, throwing down the projectile, "A poison dart? That is a low blow even for the Foot!"

The guy that cushioned the wall for me is pulling himself up, using the same unforgiving wall for support. But before he's even standing, I whip around and whack him right in the balls. Really hard. Like he may never walk straight again hard.

"Consider that payback," I growl.

When I turn back to face the rest of the Foot, I can only see their backs as they run away.

"Cowards!" I cry after them. But then again, if you just injected someone with poison, wouldn't it be easier to leave them and come back after they were dead? You know, instead of fighting and possibly having your tender areas damaged beyond repair.

I really needed to get back to my hidey hole now.

But before I can even take a step, dizziness takes over and I totter like a drunk before falling against the damp brick wall. I try pushing off to walk, but all that accomplishes is me slipping and falling to my hands and knees, scraping them in the process. Leaning my weight to one side, I slowly bring my hand to my stomach. And it's then, as I feel the warm wetness on my sweatshirt, that the smell of copper hits me full on.

"Dammit!" I gasp, putting my hand back on the ground to steady myself. I was either going to die of blood loss or poisoning in this damn alley, and it didn't look like there was anything I could do about it.

Nausea hits me like a tsunami wave and I go down on my side, bile filling my throat. I hold my blood soaked abdomen as I start to shake, my vision fading around the edges.

_'Looks like the poison found your heart,'_ the little voice sighs, _'Couple that with the blood loss and what a way to go. And almost without a fight.'_

My body is wracked with another fit of shaking and my vision blurs before slowly refocusing. My gaze falls on the ninja that I had incapacitated. He's actually starting to get up (albeit really really slowly) and is making his way towards me. The Foot soldier looms above me for a moment, the lightning making him seem malevolent, just watching as I shake on the ground. Then he pulls back his foot (see, there it is again) and lands a solid one right in my chest.

All of the air in my lungs leaves in one whoosh as two sickening cracks sound in perfect sync with a roll of thunder. He winds up for another go, but a sudden outbreak of noise comes from a little ways away. Taking one last look at me, he runs towards the sounds of a fight.

After I stop sputtering for air and coughing up blood, I tenderly touch my ribs. And hiss at the sudden blast of pain. Two of them were definitely broken and more might be bruised.

Then I notice that the sounds of the fight had stopped. But I could hear soft voices, and it seemed like they were coming near me.

_'Maybe they're coming back.'_ the little voice panics, _'Maybe they decided that waiting was going to take too long.'_

At that thought, my heart sped up. I was not going to be killed like some helpless animal. Not while I might still have the slightest chance of dying with some ounce of dignity left.

So, pushing past the pain, the dizziness and the nausea, I push myself onto my hands and knees and start crawling away. It's slow going with the slick ground, but the voices are coming closer, faster. Shivering, I skitter faster along the ground as I'm soaked to the bone by the relentless rain and that same rain washes away my trail of blood droplets.

"Can't let them catch me, can't let them catch me," I mutter like some secret, all-powerful mantra as rain water mixed with sweat drips into my eyes.

And just when I think I have a very small possibility of making it out of that alley, a blinding light explodes behind my eyes. I go down shrieking bloody murder. It felt like someone was drilling a hole in my skull, stabbing my brain with a white hot knife and pulling the whole thing apart piece by piece all at once. It was the most excruciating thing I'd ever experienced.

The Foot must have heard my scream because the voices are raised and pounding steps echo down the alley.

But I don't care anymore. I just want the pain to stop. I let out another blood curdling howl as another blast of light pulsates through my skull and I cradle my splitting head. I curl up, letting the world know my agony as I scream.

With another throbbing pulse, all my senses shut down except for my blurry sight, and all I can feel is my head. Then my vision starts to go.

But just before the blackness completely engulfs me, I see four shadows enter the alley. What's really confusing though, is that they don't look like Foot soldiers. They're big and bulky, not scrawny like the Foot.

_'Does it really matter?'_ the little voice asks, _'You're going to die whether they're Foot or not.'_

And I guess it really doesn't matter as my vision completely fades and I'm only surrounded by darkness and my own dying screams.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I literally cried writing the first part of this chapter. I felt like an awful person while sitting in front of the computer, so sappy. :'( But enjoy this chapter anyway! Reviews are still welcome! And thank you Shade and Firesrage for the advice and encouragement!**

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_A dark street and two walking figures. One a young girl and the other a woman. The little girl giggles as she splashes through puddles left by the rain, holding on tightly to the woman's hand. The woman smiles warmly at the girl clutching onto her._

_All of a sudden, a figure appears out of the shadows. The woman halts, gripping the girl's hand tighter. The man chuckles, noting the woman's tension. The little girl looks curiously at the man then looks up at the woman._

_"Mommy?" the little girl whimpers, sensing that something was off about the man in front of them, "Mommy?" She tugs on her mother's hand nervously._

_The man takes a step forward._

_The woman turns and runs, pulling her daughter with her._

_"Mommy! What's happening?" the little girl cries._

_"Just run, baby! Just run!" the woman shouts back._

_The little girl slips and the woman picks her up in her arms, running all the faster._

_Shink!_

_The sound of metal on metal tears through the night. Metal cleanly slices through flesh and the woman stops. And falls._

_"Mommy!" the girl shrieks as the woman hits the pavement, still holding her._

_The woman looks at her daughter through dying eyes as the blood seeps through her clothes and onto the sidewalk in an ever widening crimson pool. The little girl cries as her mother gently cups her face and strokes back her hair._

_"I love you, baby," she quietly whispers, "I will always love you. Remember that."_

_"Mommy, don't leave me!" the little girl sobs as the tears streak down her face. The woman gently pushes her away._

_"Now run, baby," the woman says softly, "Run and never look back."_

_The little girl sobs as her mother draws in a breath and sighs, closing her eyes for the last time. The girl gently shakes her mother, hoping that she'll wake up. That she wasn't alone._

_"Mommy?" the little girl whispers, shaking her mother a little harder, "Mommy? Mommy! Mommy, don't leave me! Don't leave me alone!" Her whispers turn into sobs as she realizes her mother wasn't coming back. She was alone._

_A dark chuckle comes from behind the girl._

_She slowly turns her head, looking at the man through tear blurred eyes. He had killed her, and he was laughing._

_"Yes," the man says lowly, his voice malicious... and yet a soft, "Run child, run. For I will find you once you've grown. No matter where you are."_

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"Don't leave me alone!" I scream.

Bolting upright from the nightmare, my pulse is racing. As everything starts to come into focus, the first thing I realize is that I wasn't dead. I mean, would you be dead if you felt like you had been put through a meat grinder and had the biggest hangover in the world? I didn't really think so, but just to be absolutely sure I pinched myself.

"Nope still alive," I croak as the slight pain registers in my foggy brain. "Damn, how long have I been out?" I yawn, "And where am I?" My vision finally clears and I inspect my surroundings.

At first I thought I was in a hospital, but then again, would a hospital have random robots and doohickeys scattered everywhere? The answer is no.

"So I'm in a lab," I murmur, "But where?" I push off the cot I had been on to walk around, but my legs are too wobbly from disuse and I collapse, barely catching myself on the side of the bed.

Pain sears through my chest, stomach and shoulder, my fall irritating my broken ribs, cut abdomen and sliced shoulder. I inspect my battered body as I kneel on the floor. I note that I was caked in dried blood, my clothing seems to have been surgically snipped in some places, and my cuts had been cleaned and dressed while my ribs felt like they had been set.

"Definitely not the Foot's handiwork," I mumble.

That's also when I notice that sticking out of my arm, was an IV drip. My eyes follow the tube to a bag slowly siphoning fluids into my system. I shudder. I _hated_ hospital equipment.

So, being the big girl that I am, I decide to take it out.

Nervously holding the drip between my thumb and forefinger, I say, "Okay, just like a band-aid. Do it fast and get it done." One last preparing breath and I quickly pull it out.

Gently, I set the needle tip of the IV on the cot and I get up to test my legs again. They only shake a little and I decide to take an actual look around.

Most of the stuff here was pretty sophisticated, and it looked like it had all been built by hand. Whoever had made all of this was pretty smart, but I think I could do better. But there was one thing that looked completely out of place.

I walk slowly around a long table holding a weird robot. It looked machine manufactured, nothing like the rest of the mechanisms around the place. So what is it? And with a great amount of scientific thought, I poke it.

"It's...squishy!" I gasp, startled. I had not expected that. "It must be some kind of synthetic skin for the metal skeleton." I murmur aloud, "But what's the purpose?" I wrinkle my nose and poke it again.

Weird.

Having fully explored the lab, I find myself staring at a pair of overly large metal doors. I really wanted to look around more, but what was behind those giant doors? A torture chamber? A frozen wasteland complete with an abominable snowman? A whole shit load of Foot ninja waiting for me to pop my little head out? But being the stubborn and reckless person I am, I decide to risk all possible yeti attacks. And I guess the Foot, but the yeti seems a lot more threatening.

I slowly push back the giant rolling door and, even more slowly, poke my head out.

"Now what do we have here?" I step out of the lab and into somewhere I hadn't expected at all.

It looked like a subway turnaround or something, with a big, open space in the middle, but with a pool of sorts at the other end of the room. It even had turnstiles off to the side. But it looked more like it was... lived in.

There was a recessed pit with a TV and DVDs scattered about. There was a random pinball machine and a few beanbags here and there. And there was also a very beat up looking sparring dummy. But the most ridiculous thing was the pizza boxes. It looked like all they ate was pizza! Cautiously, I walk up to one and crouch down. I open the lid slightly and almost immediately start dry heaving from the rank stench coming off of the mold inside. It was disgusting.

After I regain my composure, I notice there seem to be a few branching halls. I tiptoe across the room over to one and pad silenty up to a room with Japanese style sliding doors. I cautiously peak through a small crack. It looked like a dojo or something, with a tree in the middle, training mats all over the floor and weapons adorning every wall. I turn away, brow furrowed as I walk back to the "living room".

This place just gets weirder and weirder.

The next room I explore is a small kitchen off to the side of the living room. The kitchen consists of an island, a fridge, a few counters and cabinets, a stove and an old neon diner sign. It was sorta clean, but there seemed to be a never ending supply of empty pizza boxes around here.

Just as I was about to open the fridge to see if there were any pizza boxes with pizza in them (almost dying makes you hungry ya know?) the sound of voices and laughter reaches my ears. I quickly creep over to the open doorway and press myself flat against the wall just to the side. Using my silence and position to my advantage I slowly peek an eye around the doorway. I watch as four shadowed figures jump the turnstiles that lead to what I was assuming were the sewers of New York. They made enough noise to rival a stampede. Which could only mean one thing.

Teenage boys.

I sigh in relief. Just boys, I could handle that. But just as I was about to step out and scare them, the four shadows all come into the light. And I stop cold in my tracks.

Quickly pulling back into the kitchen I realize I'm hyperventilating. Trying to take in deep, slow breaths, I peek around the corner again.

They're still there. I guess I wasn't hallucinating after all.

I find myself on the ground, not even realizing that I had slid down the wall. I hug my knees, going into a state of shock.

"There are human-sized turtles living in the sewers of Manhattan." I whisper in shock.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks again for reading this fanfic! I hope you enjoy when... I'm not telling you her name yet, but points if you can guess! But anyway, this is where my OC unofficially "meets" the turtles. Please read, review and enjoy!**

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"There are human-sized turtles living in the sewers of Manhattan." I whisper, rocking slightly, "This is insane. There shouldn't be anything like this. And they're color coded! Why would they be color coded?" Becoming hysteric, I start to hyperventilate again but I get it under control before I think they can hear me. I look around the corner again, watching as they kid around and laugh.

"Okay," I breath, bringing my focus back to the problem at hand, "I have to get out of here without being noticed."

Gazing back out to the living area, I slowly rise to my feet making as little noise as possible. Then, timing my movement just right, I dart out of the kitchen and into the shadows. I cling to the wall, waiting to see if any of them noticed me. But it looks like none of them saw a thing. I move my head slowly, looking for a better way around the mutant turtle things without alerting them to my presence, while also getting to the other side of the space. That's when I notice that there were pipes covering every inch of the ceiling, and giving a great overhead hiding place. I smile.

Slowly sliding over to a pipe I could reach without scaling the wall, I wait for the right moment. As soon as their backs are to me, I scurry up the pipe like a monkey, barely making a noise. From my newly acquired vantage point, I watch the turtle things warily as a make my way towards the sewers inch by inch. And I gotta say, it was like watching a documentary on teenage boys. Well, that were mutated turtles, but boys are boys no matter the species.

Like I said before, all four are color coded. But what I hadn't noticed before was that they were also all armed. Each of them had a basic Japanese fighting tool, almost like the Foot clan. They also seemed to have their own, very different, personalities.

The blue one had twin katana strapped to his back, and was obviously the leader of the group. I knew that because he just seemed to have this presence... plus the fact that two out of the other three were mercilessly teasing him about watching some rerun show on TV.

The purple one was equipped with a bo staff (much like the one I had used to hit a home run), and he seemed quiet. I realized he must be the one with the lab. He just kind of looked like the smarty pants turtle as he typed away on a laptop he had miraculously produced.

The orange one was obviously the wild card, fancy pants dancing around and generally annoying the other three. He had nunchuks shoved into his belt, and even though he was goofing around like a class clown, he most likely knew how to use them.

Lastly was the red one. He had dual sais and, strangely enough, had a pet turtle munching happily away at the tail of his bandanna. Now you don't see irony like that every day, and I should know. My life is full of it. He's definitely the fighter and hothead of the little group, being easily provoked by the orange turtle. But he also had this really guarded, soft, protective side to his personality that I could see when he talked to his turtle.

Then there was me, crawling above them without their knowledge, watching. That is, until my hand slips.

Me, being the amazingly genius person that I am, wasn't paying attention to exactly where I was placing my hands as I watched the turtles below me. And it was too late when I realized that my arm was going through non solid air as I started to pitch forward. My eyes widen and instinct kicks in as I slide around the pipe, quickly grabbing hold before I completely drop from the ceiling. Holding on tightly, I look out of my peripheral vision to see if the turtles had noticed my slight mishap. None of them were looking.

I try to pull myself back up on top of the pipe, but it's too wide to just haul myself over. It looked like I was going to have to shimmy the rest of the way. Yay for inconveniences!

Making sure to be quiet, I pull myself along at a muscle burning pace so that they wouldn't notice me on their ceiling. By the time I get to the other side of the room it feels like my arms are going to fall off. I slowly let myself down another pipe until my feet hit sweet concrete. Taking one cautious step towards the turnstiles, I accidentally kick a pizza box which skids to a halt by the edge of the pit. All of the turtles to immediately turn their heads to look at the box, and then to me.

We stare at each other for a while, like the world's on pause. They were completely shocked by my sudden appearance and I was silently cursing out the damn box that had blown my cover. Boxes, stealth's worst enemy. Go figure.

It didn't look like they were going to make the first move so I decide to make mine.

"So," I say casually, "I'm just gonna go now." I point towards the sewers. They just stare. "Sooo, bye!" And I dart away, hurdling the turnstiles and running like mad through the tunnels.

It takes a couple of seconds, but I hear them get up and give chase. But guess who had a fifteen meter head start? Listening to their shouts, I pour on more speed, pulling even farther ahead. My path is completely random as I take turn after turn. But I'm starting to slow down, my body still not completely fueled for this kind of action and burning from the exertion.

Just as I hurdle across another intersection, there's this awful tearing feeling in my abdomen. I fumble the landing, turning my ankle. I shrug off my ankle's pain as I continue running and a warmth starts to flow from my gut. Quickly pressing my hand to my stomach, I immediately feel a slight patch of wetness forming on my bandages.

Damn it! I pulled some stitches! I curse under my breath as I take another turn. "A dead end! Deja vû much." I mutter, screeching to a halt, confronted by a solid wall. That is, unless I wanted to crawl under the tiny sewage slat, possibly falling to my doom if it was a giant drainage pipe on the other side. No thank you.

I whirl around, searching for an exit as the turtles' voices came closer. There! A manhole cover! How did I not notice that before? I quickly scale up the ladder and huff with the effort of hauling aside the circle of metal. Scrambling through the opening, I'm met with the cool night air. Taking a deep breath, I start heading out of the alley I had entered when I hear clambering coming from the open manhole. Making to dart out of the alleyway at top speed, I'm stopped by the surprise onset of a humongous migraine. I stagger, holding my head as it throbs.

_'Come on!'_ the little voice urges, _'You gotta get moving!'_

The first turtle head pops out of the sewers as I regain some of my balance and try to make a break for it. But the pain hits again and I almost trip over my own feet.

"Wait!"

I slowly turn around to face the blue-masked turtle that was standing behind me. He was moving cautiously, like he was afraid to spook me. My stomach churns as another wave of pain hits my pulsing head.

"Don't leave," blue turtle said, he seemed concerned, "You're not healed yet, and we can help you." He reaches out to me.

The purple turtle's head pops out of the hole and I jump, startled. He looks at me clinically, but he also has this concerned look in his eyes, like he cares.

"You tore some of the stitches," the purple turtle says as he emerges completely, "I'll have to seal that up again before it gets worse."

Did that mean that they were the four shadows I had seen before blacking out? Had they really helped me? I'm starting to feel really antsy, just standing there in a defensive position, my migraine worsening by the second. Then the red turtle comes out.

"Jeez, why'd you run!" he growls, I flinch from his intoned anger. The blue turtle gives him a dirty look saying shut up.

"What!" red turtle says, exasperated.

"Apologize, Raph." blue turtle says seriously, "You scared her."

The red turtle grumbles as he looks at me. But his face softens a little.

"Sorry I guess," he mumbles. I blink, confused. He actually sounded like he was sort of sorry, and that look he just gave me was the one he had given his pet turtle earlier. Were these mutant turtles really being kind to me?

Then the wild card pops out of the sewers, jumping around like he was on a sugar high. Or at least high on something.

"Hi! My name's Mikey!" he said excitedly, getting all up in my face before I could bat him away, "What's yours?"

I take a few quick steps back, surprised at his complete lack of boundaries. I should have punched him, but I didn't. Suddenly, a sort of dizziness rushes over me and my headache doubles.

"Mikey!" the red one shouts, smacking the orange one upside the head.

"What?!" the orange one squeals.

"Your scaring her," the blue one says calmly.

"Well, sorry..." the orange one says sheepishly.

"She's probably in shock from your face," the red one says harshly.

"Hey!"

They bicker among themselves as my migraine worsens even further. I start to rub my temples to alleviate the pain, and another wave of dizziness crashes over me. I start to feel a little nauseated and shaky. Everything starts to take on a dulled feeling, like there was cotton in my ears and I wasn't seeing colors very well.

"No more noise. Please," I mumble, furiously making circles on my temples.

"Umm, guys?" the purple one pipes up, watching me intently.

"What!?" they yell at him in unison. He just points as I suddenly feel my legs give out from under me. Before I hit the pavement, I feel two strong arms grab me. I hear a few muttered swears as everything starts to blank, colors running. I feel cold for a moment as I'm passed from one set of arms to another.

_'So warm and secure,'_ I thought hazily, as the arms grip me tightly.

Four colorful bandannas dance on grey as my eyes close and I completely fade into the darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Yay! Chapter 6! Posting will probably start to slow down a lot since I'm almost through all of the stuff I've written so far... But enjoy, read and review! Thanks again guys!**

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Screaming penetrates my sluggish mind. Who was that? Why did they sound so terrified? The cobwebs start to dissolve. Wait, wasn't that me? Isn't that my scream? Then the fog completely evaporates as I realize that I was howling like I was being murdered. Strong hands are gently but firmly holding my shoulders down as I thrashed. I stop after a moment, finally getting control over myself. The hands leave my shoulders. My chest is heaving as I slowly push myself into a sitting position. I blink away the sleep from my eyes, taking in my surroundings. It's the same lab as before, but there's a difference... make that four.

The four turtles are staring at me intently, and I quickly curl up, hugging my knees to my chest. We just stay like that for awhile, watching each other.

"Sooo," the red one says, obviously getting a little anxious from the silence. I just gaze at them, unblinking.

"Okay, well, um," the blue one starts, "We haven't really introduced ourselves have we?" He clears his throat, "My name's Leonardo and these are my brothers. Raphael."

The red one nods, letting out a grunt. I nod back.

"Donatello."

The purple one smiles shyly, giving a slight wave. I smile back from behind my knees. I start to relax a little bit.

"An-"

"My name's Michelangelo, but you can call me Mikey!" the orange one interrupts, bouncing slightly as he gets in my personal space again, "What's yours?"

The other three freeze, waiting to see what would happen. I take a moment, pondering my reply.

"Rose." I say quietly, "My name's Rose."

Donatello and Leonardo look relieved that I hadn't decided to hit Mikey, and Raphael looked disappointed for the same reason. Mikey just looked like he was hopped up on everything sugary and caffeine filled under the sun as he danced around the room talking gibberish about names and something about how he could do better.

I watch on, amused as Mikey continues to prance about the room when my attention is grabbed by someone clearing their throat.

Still curled up, I turn my head to see a blushing Donatello as he stutters and stumbles, trying to say something. Raphael just slaps him on his shell like he's a broken record and Donatello scowls at his brother. I giggle and Donatello reddens to an even deeper shade of magenta.

"I-I-I... um, c-cou... how-how," his tongue completely tied.

"Yes?" I say softly, my secret smile widening and I loosen up just a little bit more.

Donatello regains some of his composure and says, "Could I take a look at you? I-I mean, could I take a look at y-your injuries," he quickly corrects, blushing even more furiously.

I think about it for a moment before nodding slowly. If he had been the one to stitch me up then I was assuming I could trust him. At least for now.

Slowly unwrapping my arms, I lower my legs so they're dangling off the edge of the cot. My joints pop and my bones creak. I wince as my muscles flare with pain when I shift a little bit. I feel like crap. Heck, I don't think crap even feels like this.

Leonardo and Raphael look on and even Mikey has stopped bouncing about. I give them a pointed glare. I could handle one guy looking at me when I was this vulnerable, but not four.

"Well?" I say curtly, "Shoo! Get out!"

All three blink, and it takes a little while but they all filter out, mumbling about things they had to do. Then it was just me and Donatello.

Donatello looks super bashful, just shuffling his feet. I groan, exasperated at his complete embarrassment over the situation.

"You gonna change the dressing or am I?" I sigh, shifting positions again.

"Oh yeah! Of course!" he says, springing into action. Donatello gathers up disinfectants, bandages and other supplies from some nearby cupboards. He sets it all down on the pillow beside me. Then he just stands there, looking all nervous again. I huff, sticking out my injured arm.

"You gonna do it or not?" I say, frustration edging into my tone from his sheer ridiculousness, "I don't bite, you know. And you're not going to kill me." Donatello nods, reaching for my shoulder.

But before his fingers even touch, I shriek, "Stop! You're killing me!" He jumps back, his hand retracted and a look of surprise and terror crosses over his face. But it quickly passes as I burst out laughing. Instead, an almost hurt look takes over.

"Ow ow ow!" I gasp, my broken ribs burning from the laughter, "Okay, okay," tears are dripping down my face, "I was just kidding! You can start now." I stretch my arm in his direction again, hiccuping.

Donatello looks hesitant as he takes my shoulder and starts unwrapping the dressing. After a while, he falls into a sort of rhythm and I just watch as layer after layer of cloth comes off. Then the last strip unwinds and I inspect the cut on my arm. It's not too deep, but there were stitches binding it closed and it looked like it could be a little infected. I watch as Donatello pours some hydrogen peroxide onto a cotton ball. He takes my arm gently, the cotton ball just hovering over the cut.

"This might sting a little," he murmurs to my arm. I nod even though he's not looking. I knew how peroxide worked. He gently dabs the cotton ball on my arm and I hiss when it makes contact. The liquid bubbles a bit, giving the appearance that my flesh was boiling.

Once Donatello finished swabbing my arm, he inspects the stitches, making sure that they were still tight. Then he applies some antibiotic cream, picks up a new roll of bandages and starts winding it around and around my arm. I watch mesmerized as he finishes it off with the professionalism of someone who had done this countless times before. When he's done, he glances up and his eyes meet mine before he quickly looks back down and starts the process again on my thigh.

My mind drifts to other things as Donatello works. In particular, why there would be talking teenage mutant turtles living in the sewers of New York City. I mean, how could no one know about this? They have obviously lived here for a number of years. But how could they have stayed in hiding for so long? I mentally shrug and move on to another topic. How long had I been out for? Heat rushes to my face as I realize that Donatello must have been the one to cut up my clothes since he was obviously the one who had fixed me up. At least I had been unconscious.

I was brought out of my wandering thoughts by a short cough. I snap my attention back to Donatello who's standing in front of me, finished with my leg. He clears his throat again and glances at my stomach. I look down, not understanding until he coughs for the third time. I quickly raise my arms, interlacing my fingers behind my head.

As Donatello sets to work on my dressings, I could tell he was itching to ask a few questions. Which was perfect because I wanted to ask some questions too.

"So," I say quietly. Donatello stops for a second before beginning again.

"S-so," he replies with a slight stutter.

"Did you want to ask me something?" I coax.

Donatello stiffens, the beginnings but not the ends of words tumbling out of his mouth.

"It's okay Donatello," I chuckle, "As long as I get to ask return questions. Like an exchange."

He relaxes, his face returning back to it's normal shade of green. "You can call me Donnie," he said.

"'Kay,"

"Well, um, is Rose your full name?" he says, fumbling with the peroxide bottle. I hadn't even realized that he had finished taking off the bandages.

"It's the only one I know."

Donnie looks up at me, his mask crinkling and his eyes all squinty. It was so adorable I had to resist squishing his face. He stops swabbing on the peroxide. I hadn't even noticed.

"What do you mean?" he quizzes, "Don't you have a last name?"

"Well," I say slowly, trying to figure out how to word this, "I sort of kind of have amnesia I guess."

"Really?" Donnie says, completely forgetting about the bandages he had picked up.

"Yeah," I say, getting a little nervous and defensive under his full attention, "I don't really remember most of my childhood. It's like a big blur that I can't seem to clear up. The first thing I can really see clearly is flashing blue and red lights. Then it's just me, bouncing from foster home to foster home." I shrug, hands still tangled behind my head.

"Hmm..."

Donnie goes back to work, his brain obviously trying to figure out a problem I've been working on my entire life. Only after the first layer is on, I ask my question.

"My turn. So, how long have you guys been living down here?" I ask.

"Our whole lives pretty much," Donnie replies.

"Wow, how have you guys managed to stay hidden for so long?"

He finishes tying off my wrappings, then says, "Well, I guess no one really looks for something they have no idea exists. Especially when the thing in question lives in the sewers."

"Oh."

Donnie steps back to inspect his work. After a moment, he gives a satisfactory nod and I pop up off of the cot. I start to head for the door.

"One more thing," he says, holding out his hand. I pause, hand on the door. "Why were the Foot after you in the first place?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." I say, my eyebrows coming down over my eyes, "They just started coming at me about a year ago, and I've been running ever since. But I have the suspicion that they've been watching me for a long time."

"Hmm..."

Donnie turns back towards the lab and begins the clean up all the wrappings and put away the bottles. I watch for a moment, listening to him mumble quietly before turning away and slipping through the door.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Next chapter, yay! Thanks to _da annoying one _and _Shade_ for the support! Remember, reviews are vital to the continuation of this fic! Please enjoy this little chapter! Suggestions, corrections, reviews, encouragement and ideas are all welcome!**

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I emerge with barely a rustle, seeing the rest of the turtles scattered about the turnaround. Raphael was plopped on the sunken edge of the pit with his pet turtle again, feeding it lettuce leaves as he read a comic book. Leonardo was glued to the TV with that same rerun show on and Michelangelo was playing on what looked like a cell phone. I decided to bug Raphael for being so flippant when I ran earlier. I grin in anticipation.

Being as quiet as I could, I slip off my running shoes and pad over behind him in my socks. Cautiously avoiding the scattered pizza boxes (I really didn't want my cover blown by one of those damn things again), I manage to reach the space just behind Raphael, looming there as I watch him turn page after page of his comic book. After about five minutes or so, I got bored of just watching and decided to finally break the silence I had been holding.

"So what's his name?" I ask, leaning forward a bit.

Raphael startles, nearly clearing the edge of the pit. As he whips around to face me, he puts his hands on his sais, ready for a fight. But seeing as how my face was awfully close to his head, he bops me right on the nose as he turns around. I take a step back, holding my nose with one hand as I let out a startled yelp. Plus the pet turtle was still on his shoulder, so the poor thing was sent flying. Raphael's look of anger and annoyance turned into shock as his pet soared through the air. He lunges forward to catch his turtle as it arcs through the air, landing directly in my surprised arms. And since Raphael was aiming to catch his turtle, his landing spot was now me. My eyes widen as the whole thing seems to happen in slow motion and I see Raphael's slightly panicked expression as he tries to stop himself in midair. Once he's just a foot away, times speeds up again.

_Crash!_

It takes me a minute to regain my bearings having hit my head on the landing, but I soon realize that Raphael, his turtle and I were all in a pile of tangled limbs. Raphael groans and lifts his head, coming beak to nose with me. We just pause there for a second, both of us getting a little bit red in the face. I look out of the corner of my eye to see Mikey watching with an almost puppy-like look on his face.

"Um, would you get off?" I say, breaking the awkward silence, "You're kind of heavy."

"Oh! Um, yeah," Raphael says, extricating himself from the pile.

Mikey gets all googley-eyed. "Ooooo! Raph and Ro-ose, sittin' in a tree! K-i-s-s-"

"Shut up Mikey!" Raphael growls. He stands there while I get up, me still clutching his pet turtle. I start to stroke it's shell absentmindedly, giving Raphael a full examination. He's still fidgety from his dive, but I still take in his short, muscular physique. And then there were his eyes. They were this strange green color, like new grass, and they almost seemed to glow.

"You know, you didn't answer my question," I say to Raphael, still sizing him up.

"What question was that?" he replies, trying to regain his machoness.

"What's his name?" I tap the turtle's shell. I notice that Mikey seems to have lost interest since he was playing with the phone thing again.

"His?" Raphael points at his pet, his expression betraying his shock.

"Yes," I roll my eyes, "What is your pet turtle's name?" I say super slowly while holding out his turtle to him.

"It's Spike," he says shortly, snatching his pet back. Raphael cradles him, cooing something I can't quite make out. But the whole motherly thing makes it hard to keep from laughing.

I cover up my mouth as I squeak out, "Spike. That's a cute name. Very manly."

Raphael gives me a sour look as he sits back down on what I assume serves as the couch. I slide down onto the "couch" a few feet away from him. I lounge back, watching Raphael pick up his comic book and looking over to see that Mikey was upside down on a bean bag. I glance over at Leonardo, still parked in front of the TV. It looked like he hadn't moved during the entire mini episode. But I squint my eyes a little, noticing a ghost of a smile playing about his lips. We sit there in relative silence, white noise courtesy of the television and murmured encouragements from Leonardo to his heroes with the occasional noise from Mikey. I study everything closely, taking in as many details as I can.

After a few minutes, the door to Donnie's lab slides open and he steps out holding something. He seems completely invested in whatever it is as he walks towards the kitchen and I watch him with thinly veiled interest. I wonder if I should follow him?

_Grrroooooowwwlll!_

All four turtle heads snap up and around to look at me. I just sit there in shock myself, staring at my stomach. Then I look up at them and we just stare at each other until my stomach makes another noise of protest. I smile sheepishly at them, my gut still making soft gurgling noises.

"You happen to have anything to eat?" I say, looking at Donnie.

"We can order pizza!" Mikey shouts, jumping up from his bean bags.

"Pizza sounds good," I smile. My stomach loudly agrees.

"I'll call April!" Mikey says, whipping out his phone.

"NO!" all three of his brothers yell. I just stare at them as Mikey freezes like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Why can't Mikey make the call?" I ask slowly.

"Because Mikey makes some interesting choices in toppings," Leonardo replies, still keeping his gaze on Michelangelo, "Your stomach might not be up to the challenge." I nod in understanding.

Raphael smirks. "How about we let Donnie call April," he says. Donnie blushes, stuttering as he pulls out his phone while hurrying off to the kitchen with gadget in tow. I watch him go, amused at his obvious discomfort. Making sure that Donnie was out of earshot, I lean over to Raphael.

"So what was that all about?" I ask quietly.

Raphael looks at me over the top of his comic book, green eyes just barely peeking above the cover. "You really want to know?" he says, raising an eye ridge.

I nod enthusiastically. Of course I wanted to know who Donnie was all flustered about. That way I could tease him about it later while watching him try to bluster out a rebuke. It promised to be an adorable show of embarrassment. Maybe I would squish his cheeks then and tell him it was alright to have a cute little crush.

Raphael pauses, seemingly for dramatic effect, then sighs.

"Fine. April is the only human that we really know, well, besides you now. Donnie has this really obvious thing for her, but I don't think she seems to see it. Well, maybe she does and she just doesn't want to break his heart or something."

"So, let me see if I got this right," I say, tapping my chin, "Donnie has a crush on this girl April, but she either doesn't notice or isn't interested. But Donnie keeps going after her, right?"

"Pretty much," Leo says, staring at his TV show again. I look over at him, slightly annoyed that he had been listening in on our conversation.

I turn back to Raphael. "That's kind of sad, don't you think?" I say, trying to coax out his soft side. He glares at me, obviously already off the topic and wanting to get back to his comic book. Or maybe he didn't like me calling his brother's love life sad.

"If he wants to chase April until his heart gets broken, he can go right ahead," Raphael growls before sinking back into his comic. But he says something else really softly. It sounds sort of like _'Maybe he'll learn something then.'_

I stand up suddenly, a little miffed at Raphael's reply. But I had forgotten that I still hadn't eaten anything for however long I was out and I sway a little on my feet from the massive headrush. Swaying slightly, I grip the edge of the pit. Raphael is looking at me expectantly, like I might fall and he'll have to spring into action and catch me. Once the room stops spinning I regain my composure, glare at Raphael, and walk towards the kitchen. It's about time that I had a few more questions answered by someone more accommodating and less agitating.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update! I just really struggled with this chapter... Guys, I really need some suport! Please review what you think instead of waiting for someone else to post what you think. Thanks for everyone's support! Enjoy!**

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I enter the kitchen, silently fuming, but Donatello doesn't notice. He's too busy staring at his cell phone device, the other little doohickey laid forgotten on the island as he leaned against the counter. I pause for a moment, my anger evaporating as I stare at him, and a goofy grin starts to spread across my face. He just looked so conflicted and anxious staring at what I assumed were his contacts, finger poised above. It was too adorable to handle! Donnie's tongue peaks out of the corner of his mouth and he lowers his finger slowly towards the screen. You could just hear the cogs turning in his head as he pondered what to say.

"Are you going to call or not, 'cause I'm getting hungry," I say casually, watching Donnie jump, "Or I can make the call if you're too nervous."

"N-no! I've got it!" Donnie stutters out, quickly hitting the call button. The sound of the electronic ringing is the only noise filling the silence between us. Donnie looks pale and I quietly smile, watching the fun unfold.

_"Hey, Donnie. What's up?"_ says a feminine voice coming through the speakers.

"Hi April! How's it going?" Donnie says, trying to be as casual and charming as possible. He even does this quirky little smile and eye ridge lift that is so ridiculously cute, that I have to keep from tackle hugging him.

_"I'm great. Was there something you wanted to say other than hi?"_

"Yeah, we need a few pizzas down here." Donnie says, glancing over at me, "Probably a few larges."

_"Sure. I can swing by and pick up a few before I come down." _There's a pause on the line before, _"No weird toppings this time or anything?"_

"Nope! Just the classics today April," Donnie replies, still trying to act casual.

_"Okay, be there in a little while."_

"Bye April!" Donnie says quickly before hanging up. He stares at his phone, a dreamy expression on his face. Then he looks up at me and his eyebrows pull together in a look of confusion with just a hint of fear.

"What?" he asks, shoving his phone out of sight.

"So," I say, slowly sauntering over to stand in front of him, "That was April."

Donnie's starting to look really nervous, and at the same time, he gets the same dreamy look as before. I pause to add dramatic effect, my smile widening.

"Do you like her?" I ask slyly.

"N-no! Well, maybe, but-", he tries to stutter out a reply as his face reddens.

"I knew it!" I interrupt. Dancing around the kitchen, I sing, "Donnie li-ikes April! Donnie li-ikes April!"

Donnie's face starts to turn a really red as my singing gets louder. He lunges for me and I dance out of his reach. On my third or fourth twirl, Don manages to snag me and clamps his hand over my mouth.

"Stop that!" he hisses. I roll my eyes and lick his hand. Donnie immediately lets go, staring at his hand in bewilderment.

"You just licked me!" he exclaims.

"Yeah, well, you didn't taste all that great if it makes you feel better," I reply, wiping off my tongue, "So when's the pizza gonna get here?" I lean against the island, "I need something to get rid of this awful sweaty bandage slash turtle taste out of my mouth."

"About thirty minutes or so. I'll get you a glass of water," Donnie replies, taking a glass out of a cupboard. He walks over to the sink and comes over with a glass of water. I take it with a muttered thank you. Taking a swig, I swish it around in my mouth before swallowing.

"Hey, this is pretty good!" I say, surprised, "How did you get this water so clean?"

"You were expecting gross?" he said.

"Well, yeah. You guys sort of live in the sewers of New York City. I don't usually expect crystal clear water from the tap up _there_," I say, pointing up towards the surface.

"We siphon our water, discreetly of course, from a few different municipal pipes. It then runs through a filter I made to come out as the stuff you're drinking," Donnie replies, using a few simple hand gestures for good measure.

"Cool."

Gulping down the rest of the water, I watch as Donnie pulls out his cell phone and begins the fiddle with it. I glance behind me, noticing the little doohickey again. I pop up onto the island, picking up the thing and turning it around while swinging my legs idly. It looked like a hard drive. But I couldn't quite figure out what it was for.

"So, Don, what's this?" I turn over the object again, peering closely at the wires.

Donnie glances up from his phone and quickly looks back down. "That's a-" he stops short, his head whipping back up again. Don jumps up and snatches it right out of my hands. "That's a drive that shouldn't be handled!" he exclaims, cradling it.

I cross my arms, slightly miffed. "Well, Mr. Smarty-Pants, your precious drive looks like it has a few misconnected wires," I huff.

Donnie scoffs, "I highly doubt that."

"If you're so sure of your work why don't you just humor me and check it over?" I sniff.

Donnie just chuckles as he begins to look over the drive. I lean back on my hands, waiting expectantly. After a moment, Don starts to mutter under his breath and his expression grows serious. A smile sneaks itself onto my face as I lean forward to look at the drive with him.

"Something wrong?" I ask innocently.

Donnie doesn't look up but mumbles, "This can't be right. I was sure that this was wired correctly."

"I told you so!" I giggle, "You just had to listen over your own ego talking."

"How did you know?" Don asks, whipping his head up. I look up at the same time, unfortunately, causing us to bop heads. Painfully. I pull back rubbing a new sore spot on my head, the sharp pain already turning into a dull ache.

"Jeez Don! Thick skull or what?" I wince, looking up to see he's tenderly touching his head too.

"I think that's because of our mutated physiology. Since we were originally turtles, I expect that-" He stops, seeing my intense glare. "Okay. No explanation. So, how did you know that the drive was wired wrong?"

I sigh, tucking an errant strand of hair behind my ear, "When you're constantly on the run you can't exactly buy the electronics you need. That pretty much defeats the purpose of hiding. As I'm sure you understand." Pausing, I look up at him, having subconsciously lowered my head. "So, it helps to know some tech skills. Like wiring."

Donnie studies me, letting out a thoughtful hum. "There's a lot more to you than meets the eye," he says.

I snort. "You have no idea turtle boy."

"No. I guess I don't," he says softly.

Heat begins to rise up my neck and I start to fidget, afraid that my pale complexion will show my embarrassing blush.

"Anyway, what contraption is the drive for Don?" I ask quickly, trying to divert attention from myself. Donnie instantly brightens at the mention of whatever he's in the middle of inventing.

Looking overly excited, he says, "Really? You want to know what I'm working on?"

"Pfft, duh! If I took the time to check your wiring, I'm gonna want to see what my work was put towards!" I smile.

Donnie looked positively giddy as he grabbed my hand, pulling me straight off the island toward the door. He's already babbling about how he got the idea for whatever it was when he realized he was holding my hand. Don immediately stops and drops my hand like it's on fire, looking up at me with wide-eyed shock. I snort and grab his hand.

"Dude, I'm not going to freak out if you touch me."

I drag him out of the kitchen and towards the lab. As we pass through the main room, Raphael glances up from his comic, raising an eye ridge. I stick out my tongue and hurry towards the door. I hear a sort of growl followed by a soft chuckle as I push aside the giant door and yank Donnie in with me.

**A/N: P.S I need some help with figuring out who my OCs crush should be! Please PM or review your thoughts!**


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